


reunited (and it feels so good)

by estrella30



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, M/M, tourfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-14 23:34:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/842721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estrella30/pseuds/estrella30
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows he’s being stupid, he <i>knows</i> it. The only one he told any of this to was Cal and he’d laughed at Michael so hard he nearly broke a rib on the plane so Michael made sure not to tell the others, but really, it had been an actual concern. So Michael can’t believe they’re <i>touring the world with One Direction</i>. So what. It hardly makes any <i>sense</i>; of course he’s still a little confused by it all.</p>
<p>or Harry and Michael reunite after the break after the UK leg of the tour</p>
            </blockquote>





	reunited (and it feels so good)

**Author's Note:**

> just a short fic about Harry and Michael ~reuniting after the break from the UK leg of the tour. I do realize that Michael's hair is now BLUE, but since this takes place in the twelve hours it was actually blond I'm hoping you'll cut me some slack lol. 
> 
> thanks to hostagesfic and mrsyt31 for the beta! any remaining mistakes are most definitely my own.

*

Michael wanders around the shop with Ashton, trying to decide if he wants to keep the blue in his hair or go for something different, maybe a red or a pink streak.

“Fuck, come on, what’s taking you so long?” Ashton kicks the back of Michael’s foot and shoots off a fast text before shoving his phone back into his pocket. “Niall said they’re all waiting for us at the studio. Can you stop fucking around with hair dye and finish up?”

“I just want to get the right one,” Michael pouts. He picks up a small bottle of blue and flips it over to find the price sticker. Blue has seemed to work well for him. Maybe he shouldn’t be messing around with things too much that have been working. “You think this one’s all right?”

“Yes. It’s good, it’s great, go pay for it and let’s _go_.”

Michael rolls his eyes and Ashton smacks a wet kiss on his cheek as they wander up to the registers, the dull sound of cameras clicking from behind them in the aisles.

*

“WHAT’S GOING ON YOU SEXY FUCKING PEOPLE!”

Ashton shouts so loud that Niall jumps even with his headphones on and the rest of the guys all startle in their seats in the control room of the studio.

“Ashton you mother fucking _twat_ ,” Niall yells before yanking his headphones off and bounding across the room, wrapping Ash in a hug so tight it lifts him clear off the floor. “So good to have you lads back!”

The rest of the guys jump from their seats and grab Ash and Michael in huge hugs, patting them on the back and kissing them on the face and neck.

Michael would never admit it but he was dead nervous before coming to see them all today because what if the UK leg of the tour had been a fluke? What if they didn’t really like Michael and his band as much as they said they did? This whole thing has been so ridiculous, so far out of the realm of anything Michael’s ever dreamed about that he half expects to wake up every day and find someone waiting in his room with his bag already packed and a plane ticket in their hand to send him back home, a guilty, “Sorry, you guys just aren’t what we’re really looking for,” coming out of their mouth.

He knows he’s being stupid, he _knows_ it. The only one he told any of this to was Cal and he’d laughed at Michael so hard he nearly broke a rib on the plane so Michael made sure not to tell the others, but really, it had been an actual concern. So Michael can’t believe they’re _touring the world with One Direction_. So what. It hardly makes any _sense_ ; of course he’s still a little confused by it all.

“Hey.”

Michael looks up when he hears Harry’s voice, and oh. Right. There’s the other part of it. Maybe part of his being nervous to see everyone today was because of his ridiculous, stupid, pointless crush on Harry Styles.

Not that he’s admitting that either but, well, _maybe_.

“Hey,” Michael says and smiles back. Harry wraps his arms around Michael in a hug and squeezes him tighter and longer than Liam or Louis or Zayn or Niall did. And he stays with Michael longer than he stayed with Ash. This isn’t Michael making things up, this is just a fact. From the look Ashton is giving him from the other side of the room, all raised eyebrows and wide eyes Ashton knows it too.

“Missed you guys,” Harry says, lips quirking in a wide grin. “Are Luke and Cal headed over too?”

“Yeah, I think they are,” Michael says. He fumbles for his phone pretending to check for a text from the others but it’s really to buy himself a minute. Harry’s hair is longer and curly and his eyes are so fucking green up close. Michael wants to kiss him and it’s stupid, it’s so fucking stupid, but he can’t stop himself. He takes a step back and Harry frowns.

“Where are you going?” Harry asks, reaching out to grab Michael’s wrist. His fingers curl around and Michael feels his pulse kick up just from Harry’s hand on him. He wonders if Harry can feel it too.

Before Michael can say or do anything stupid though, Lou bustles into the room, all bright voice and sparkling eyes. She grabs Michael quick, hugs him hard and spins him around so he’s headed toward the back of the room.

“You get the stuff?” she asks. She’s grinning brightly and Michael nods, hands her the small bag and smiles when he catches Harry’s eye.

“Yep. New bottle of blue just for you,” Michael tells her.

Lou beams and grabs the bag, bustling over to the sink to get everything ready and Michael gives Harry a little wave, tugs at the ends of his hair and says, “Emergency situation here.”

“Ah,” Harry nods his head, lips twitching into a smile. “Serious business, yeah. Got it. I’ll catch up with you in a bit then, headed into the booth for a little while anyway.”

Michael waves and chats to Lou as she strips the black from his hair and gets it back to his regular blond, adding a new shade of blue to the front section. He’s sat in a chair reading an issue of J14 someone has left (his celebrity match with One Direction turns out to be Zayn so Michael goes back and redoes his answers until he fits with Harry, then debates sticking his head in the toilet bowl for the rest of the afternoon because when did he turn into an _actual thirteen year old girl_ ) when someone comes up from behind him and shoves ice down the back of his shirt.

“Ahh,” Michael screeches, the ice sliding down his back, making him shiver, his belly going tight and his dick going hard when he hears Harry’s laugh, realizes it’s Harry’s fingers pressed into the back of his neck. “Fuck, that was like the best orgasm ever,” Michael says to try and get a laugh from Harry as he shimmies around to shake the cube out of the bottom of his shirt.

When he turns around Harry is grinning, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “Best ever, yeah?” Harry asks. He wiggles his eyebrows and winks. “We’ll have to work on that that,” he says and walks off, leaving Michael with his mouth hanging open and his dick half hard in his jeans.

Asshole.

*

When Lou takes the foil out of Michael’s hair he’s met with a chorus of _oohs_ and _ahhhs_ louder than he necessarily deserves. She blows it out so it’s only half damp and he peeks in the mirror, grinning to himself when he sees his old hair looking back at him, the edges dark blond and soft, the blue streak brighter than it was before.

“Mikey’s back!” Calum shouts.

“I missed your hair,” Ashton says, running up to grab the ends of Michael’s hair and pull.

“It’s looks good,” Luke says, then ducks when Lou goes to hit him with a hair dryer, saying, “Of course it looks good, you bloody twat, _I_ did it!”

Michael laughs when Lou chases Luke around the room, more because of the petrified look on Luke’s face as she’s doing it. He hopes Luke can run fast; he’d hate to see what would happen if Lou actually caught him. Luke might pass out and brain himself on the floor.

Michael grins and shakes his head. He tugs at the damp strands of his hair, the scent of toner and dye clinging to his nostrils and wonders if he did the right thing, going back to blond. He feels more like himself, sure, but so many things have happened to him with the black hair. He wonders if that’s how people really know him, if he’s maybe fucked things up by changing it.

“Hey,” Harry says. He’s walked up close and is studying Michael’s face, eyes squinted and a frown set to his face, and fuck. Michael wasn’t prepared for the crushing sense of disappointment he’s feeling if Harry doesn’t like his hair being back to blond. That’s just stupid. Why is he being so _stupid_?

Michael ducks his head, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. He glances up from under his fringe and winces. “Not good?”

“No, it’s—“ Harry beams at him then, reaching out to tug on the bluest section of hair he can reach. “It’s great. Different. I’d seen pictures, but…” he shakes his head. “It looks really good, Mikey. You look great.”

Michael breathes out a sigh and they stand there smiling at each other dumbly until Cal and Ash come over and drag Michael away and out to dinner, Harry leaning in close and whispering, “Keep your mobile near you; I’ll ring you in a bit,” into his ear.

*

Harry doesn’t call all through dinner when Michael attempts to eat the largest sandwich he’s ever laid eyes on. He eats too much and drinks four Cokes and by the time he gets back to his room he’s stuffed and sleepy from the food but wired from all the caffeine and sugar. He kicks around aimlessly at the clothes strewn across his floor and checks his phone every thirty seconds to see if he’s got a missed call or text from Harry.

When his phone actually buzzes he jumps a foot in the air and trips over a pair of sleep pants that somehow got tangled around his ankles. He looks at the screen and there’s a message waiting for him from Harry. Michael’s stomach jumps and flips when he reads, _playing a little tennis but I wanted to stop over in a bit, what’s your room number?? Xx_

Michael bites his lip and answers: _aren’t you guys in a different hotel?_

_yeah but we’re close by_ Harry sends back, and then, _unless you don’t want me to?_

And fuck, Michael doesn’t know much of anything lately – how they got here or what’s going on half the time or why his stomach is in knots every time Harry so much as looks at him – but he knows he wants Harry to come over. He knows he wants to see him.

_no, I definitely want you to. Room 709_

_great see you in a bit ; )_

*

Michael takes another shower and puts on a pair of his oldest jogging bottoms and his Ramones t-shirt and is just toweling off his hair when there’s a knock at the door. He opens it to find Harry grinning at him from the other side, dressed all in white with glowing yellow trainers.

“Wow,” Michael drawls. “Are you selling ice lollies to kids from the back of a truck or…”

“Ha ha ha.” Harry rolls his eyes and pushes past Michael and into the room. Michael grins and chuckles, is pushing the door closed and just about to ask Harry if he wants anything to drink when he feels hands on his waist, Harry turning him round and pushing him against the door and oh – oh _fuck_.

Harry’s kissing him. Harry Styles is _fucking kissing him_ and Michael is dying. He might actually pass out, is the thing, because Michael’s kissed a bunch of people before in his life, some girls and the occasional drunken snog with Calum when they’re wired and too hyped up after a show, but this is – Michael’s never really had anyone kiss him like _this_.

Harry’s eyes are bright green, his mouth is wide and he fucking smirks when Michael pulls back, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Sorry, didn’t mean to take you by surprise,” Harry rasps out. His voice is low and thick, a growl that shivers down Michael’s spine; that has his hands going clammy and his insides turning hot and liquid.

“No, it’s—“ Michael licks his lips, sees when Harry looks down to stare at his mouth and fuck, fuck, _fuck_. “Just surprised for a second is all.”

“Yeah?” Harry says. His lip curls up at the corner and he leans in again, fingers digging deep into the back of Michael’s hair. “You ready now then?” And Michael’s not, he doesn’t know if he’s ever going to be ready for this but fuck it, he’s not gotten this far by not taking any chances and he’s not going to start now.

“Fuck yeah,” he breathes, and lets Harry kiss him again.

This time Harry goes slow. He bites down on Michael’s bottom lip, leaves his teeth there until it starts to sting then pulls back and licks over the groove Michael can feel with his tongue. Harry’s got Michael pinned to the wall and Michael lets his eyes close, drops his head back as Harry licks into his mouth, sliding their tongues together and touching Michael’s throat and cheeks and face, kissing him until Michael’s head is spinning, until his mind is officially blown to bits.

“Fuck,” Michael pants when Harry pulls back, his mouth red and wet, pink flush up high on his cheeks. Michael figures he looks the same, tries to take a deep breath and winds up laughing a little hysterically when Harry grins at him, eyes crinkled and mouth curved in a bright smile.

“Yeah,” Harry agrees, ducking his head to bite at Michael’s collarbone through his shirt and yeah, yes, that’s good too, holy fuck. “That was nice.”

Michael covers his mouth to keep from giggling like an absolute twat. “Nice. Right. Being surprise snogged by Harry Styles is definitely nice.”

“Hey, it wasn’t a surprise!” Harry argues. Michael rolls his eyes and Harry shoves him a little, his thigh slipping between Michael’s legs and catching any laughter Michael still had left hard in his throat. “I gave you a warning!”

“After you shoved me against a door and already had your tongue in my mouth, sure,” Michael says.

Harry frowns. “Well it was a _little_ bit of a warning.”

Michael shakes his head. “I’m definitely not complaining.”

“That’s ace,” Harry says. He steps back and Michael nearly whines at the loss of Harry’s thigh between his legs, but then Harry’s taking his hand, pulling Michael along and tripping over the clothes across his floor until he makes it to the bed, tipping them both onto it and laughing breathlessly when Michael sprawls out, arms and legs thrown to the sides. “I’ve got a lot of other things I wanted to surprise you with then.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry dips his head and licks across Michael’s throat, sucking on his Adam’s apple and pulling the thin skin up between his teeth. Michael fists his hands in the sheets and tries not to lose his mind from just the feeling of Harry’s hands and mouth on him. He’s not too sure how well that’s going to work out.

“Did I mention that I’m really glad you guys are back with us on tour?” Harry asks. He blinks up at Michael and grins slowly.

“Not yet,” Michael chokes out. Harry’s fingers are dancing up under the bottom hem of his shirt. His fingertips press into Michael’s skin and Michael shakes under his hands. “I’m kind of getting the idea though.”

“Fast learner,” Harry says wickedly. “Let’s see what else you can catch on to, yeah?”

Michael nods and digs his hands into Harry’s hair, grins up at the ceiling as he pushes Harry down.

 

-end-


End file.
